


the road to ruin (and we're starting at the end)

by badskeletonpuns



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Aliens, Angst, M/M, bleak two: the bleakening, the rainbow lights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7036282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/pseuds/badskeletonpuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set directly after 'everything you ever', thanks to the ever-lovely Harper for the inspiration! The morning after everything goes down in 'everything you ever', the boys are late to work, and something is definitely wrong - even outside of the emotional crisis Ben is likely to wake up with. Sammy POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one more troubled soul

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [everything you ever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984844) by [harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror). 



Sammy woke up to light dripping through his window like molten gold and his best friend sleeping naked beside him and partially beneath him.

That was new.

Ben muttered something incoherent, and Sammy lay still beside him. It was morning, and Ben was still here. Sammy had half-expected (more than half, if he was honest with himself) to wake up alone, that it had been a dream or worse, that it hadn’t been a dream and Ben had run back to whatever used to be Emily. 

It wouldn’t have surprised him, was all. 

But Ben was still here, his skin almost uncomfortably warm against Sammy’s and his breath ruffling Sammy’s hair every time he sighed in his sleep. 

Ben mumbled again, and the words were unintelligible but the fear and worry behind them were clear even in sleep. He shook his head, getting agitated, and Sammy propped himself up on one elbow above his friend. 

“Hey, buddy, it’s okay,” he murmured, smoothing Ben’s hair out of his face with his free hand. Worry creased Ben’s brow like a piece of paper folded one too many times, and Sammy couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing his forehead like he could make it better, somehow. Wasn’t that why Ben was here, in his bed, anyway? 

Ben breathed in once - a hitch, a sigh, like someone only one sound away from a sob - and then stilled and slowly relaxed back against Sammy. He didn’t wake, not yet. 

Sammy didn’t wonder what or who Ben could have been dreaming about. It was too early for that, he told himself. Ben would explain everything later.

Or at least, everything that could be explained in this town where aliens took people and brought back someone else and people had sex with their best friends and then woke up like nothing had changed, like some fundamental fact of their world hadn’t been disproved. Like the only thing they knew hadn’t turned out to be nothing at all.

Sammy rubbed his forehead and yawned once, long and slow. It really was too early for this. He reached across Ben to grab the nearest cell phone (he was fairly certain it was Ben’s) and check the time: 1:50 AM. 

Well, they were almost an hour late to set up. 

Maybe if they came in right now, Merv wouldn’t fire them? Sammy sighed. They weren’t late for their actual show, but Merv tended to be kind of a stickler about being late and Sammy really didn’t feel like getting chewed out by his boss today.

He looked at Ben again. The other man lay still and quiet now, no tossing or mumbling. It was the first time since Emily disappeared that Sam had seen him this relaxed. Sam was struck by the desire to stop time, to carve this moment in stone and let all the abductions and tragedy of the outside world run past the two of them like water over marble.

He fired off a quick text to Merv, letting him know that neither radio host would be able to make it in today and pleading that he wouldn’t fire either of them. Sammy set Ben’s phone back on the nightstand and laid back down beside his friend. Almost on instinct, Ben pulled him in close and Sammy let his head settle on Ben’s shoulder. 

“Love you, buddy,” he murmured, more into Ben’s shoulder than directly at Ben, and he wanted to believe that Ben held him a little tighter at his words. 

Ben’s phone buzzed where it sat on the table. 

It was probably nothing. If Merv had just ended both of their radio careers, surely it could wait another half an hour or so? 

The phone buzzed again, and Ben stirred sleepily. He released Sammy with one hand and groped for his phone behind him. “Sammy, s’light outside,” he mumbled. “We’re late.” 

Sammy caught Ben’s hand, guiding it back down to the bed with zero resistance from a still mostly asleep Ben. “I already texted Merv,” he told him. “Go back to sleep, it’s two am.” He paused. “It’s two am. … Why is it light outside?” 

Ben’s phone buzzed again, and Sammy sat up. The light outside the window was almost shimmering, now that he actually looked at it, flickering gold and blue and green and red, in an eerily distinct pattern.

Oh, god. 

Sammy grabbed at Ben’s phone as it buzzed a fourth time, and unlocked it to see a series of texts sent over the past night up until right now. How had they slept through this?

_[12:01 AM] Merv: Don’t come into work today, Ben. Rainbow lights are highly active and sheriff advises all citizens remain indoors._

_[12:45 AM] Merv: You and Sammy aren’t answering your texts, are you two okay?_

_[1:00 AM, missed call, Merv]_

_[1:30 AM] Merv: Wherever you are, Ben, do NOT leave! Chet’s running the show today so people can call in any information, and there are reports of missing people already. Rainbow lights are in town, at this moment._

_[1:50 AM] Ben Arnold: Hey, Merv. Ben and I both caught some sort of bug last night, and we both got sick real fast. Neither of us are going to be able to make it into work today, sorry for texting you so late. Please don’t fire us, this is a real bad bug._

_[1:51 AM] Merv: Who is this? Sammy?_

_[1:51 AM] Merv: Have you seen the lights? Are you boys okay?_

_[1:52 AM] Merv: Wherever you are, don’t go outside. Tim ran out into the lights and he is confirmed missing. No one knows where Emily is. Is she with you two?_

_[1:52 AM, missed call, Merv]  
_

Ben mumbled something beside him. “Sammy?” he said, voice rough with sleep. Sammy wished he was hearing it under different circumstances. He probably wouldn’t get to hear it again. 

He took a deep breath. “Ben, buddy, I gotta ask you something. When was the last time you saw Emily?”


	2. it isn't fair and it isn't right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben wakes up, and things get worse.

“What the hell do you mean, no one knows where Emily is?” Ben blurted. He'd woken up fast after Sammy had started asking about her. 

The moment he'd fully registered Sammy’s question, Ben had sat bolt upright. It felt like all the oxygen had seeped out of the room overnight, leaving him breathing quick and shallow and still feeling light-headed. The sight of his best friend sitting on the bed beside him, worry in his eyes even as he tried to conceal it, did not help. It almost made it worse, Sammy’s bare skin reminding him of all that had happened last night, the boundaries that they had crossed. He couldn’t worry about that now. 

“Where is she?” he repeated, voice cracking despite his best efforts. 

Sammy couldn't meet his eyes. “I don't know,” he admitted. “No one does.”

The lights outside dimmed and brightened again, a succession of carnival lights whirling past like some impassive nightmare machine that you just knew your friends would bully you into riding even though it would make you sick. Ben felt suddenly nauseous.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything. All he could remember was that look Emily had given him, terrifying in its emptiness, and how much of a relief it had been to go to Sammy’s and see the exact opposite in his eyes. 

“I, I should find her,” Ben said, but his shoulders shook along with his voice, and _god_ it was cold in Sammy’s room. 

“Ben,” Sammy said softly, and then Ben was the one who couldn't meet his eyes. Sammy reached up to touch Ben’s shoulder and Ben shrugged him off, shaking his head.

“I can't, Sammy. Not- not now.” 

Sammy breathed in sharply. “Ben- I wouldn't, I would _never_ , I just wanted-” He almost reached out for Ben again, but cut himself off halfway through. His hand fell, slowly, curling back until Sammy was holding his fist above his heart. 

Ben shook his head again, and tried several times to talk before he could actually convince his voice to make sounds. “I can't do this,” he finally whispered, just barely audible. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, unable to stop a slight flinch at the blast of cold air that swooped into the space the blanket left behind.

He could hear Sammy behind him, trying to somehow choke out the magic words that would convince him to stay. 

“Wait, buddy, please, you can't just leave again!” Sammy pleaded. Sammy was sitting up straighter now, clutching the blanket to himself like a lifeline and pretending it could be anything like as warm as Ben was lying next to him. 

Ben collected his clothes without looking at his friend, silent, shivering, knowing that if he looked back he wouldn't be able to leave. He had to do this, he had to get Emily back, _this was all this fault._

Sammy was standing now, not bothering to look for his own clothes. In other circumstances, the giant blanket draped around his shoulders like kingly robes might have been funny, but this was not other circumstances and all Ben could think about was getting out of this room. 

“Ben, please,” Sammy begged, and grabbed his shoulder again to try and turn him around to look him in the eyes. “I can't do this again. You disappeared for two weeks, I didn't even know if you were alive for part of that time, dammit! Whatever we are now, I don't care - I'm still your best friend. At least let me help!” 

“You don't get it, Sammy!” Ben spat, whirling to face his friend. “It's all my fault, _again!_ I should have been with her, man! Just because she didn't know me didn't mean I should have come running to you, but I was dumb and irresponsible and now she's gone again!” He became vaguely aware that there were hot tears welling in his eyes, rolling down his face. “I should have been with her,” he repeated numbly, quietly, weakly. 

‘I should have been with her’, Ben said. _‘And not with you,’_ he hadn’t said, but Sammy heard it anyway. The words fell between them like the curtain at the end of a play, slowly and decisively marking the end of- of something. Ben wasn’t sure he wanted to think about what. 

He glanced at Sammy once, and though his friend’s face was bone dry, Ben could see the heartbreak in the way his shoulders hunched in, the way his mouth set in a thin line, the way his hands twisted and tugged at the fold of the blankets. 

Ben closed his eyes, and wished this was not possibly the last image he would have of Sammy. He walked out, and Sammy made no move to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect short chapters in this, just fyi. Drop me a comment or a kudos if you're liking it so far, and if you want to hit me up on tumblr at weirdmageddon-wendy to cry about Sammy and Ben or just King Falls AM in general, please do!


	3. before it gets better

“Hey there, all you lovely ladies. Tonight has been a very special extension of Chet Sebastian’s Jazz Hour… for the third time this month. Now, I don't mind helping out a pal every now and then, but Sammy and Ben, if you're listening - get your asses back to the station. I can't keep pulling long shifts like this and you two don't have the supplies to stay out wherever you are that long. Come home, boys, and for the rest of you listeners up at this hour, stay safe out there. This has been Chet Sebastian.”

Sammy closed the radio app on his phone and dropped his head into his hands. God, what was he supposed to do? 

He had no idea where Ben was. For days now, he'd been out here, listening to the radio for any tip on Ben or the lights or Emily or anything, anything at all, and he still had nothing. Every time he showed up to somewhere a tip had pointed to, Ben was already gone. Troy was invariably already there or just a few minutes later than him, but neither of them could seem to catch up to their friend. 

So now here he was, sitting on the curb outside a mostly-abandoned gas station somewhere outside of town. He'd been able to pump his own gas, but whatever employee that manned the small convenience store during the day had locked up long before Sammy’s arrival. His stomach growled, curling in on itself in hunger.

He'd give his right arm for a big plate of Rosa’s pancakes right about now. 

Sammy sighed, and tipped his head back to stare at the sky. He had to remember why he was out here, why he was driving around in circles, looking and looking but never finding. 

It would probably be easier to find a pin in a haystack than find Ben Arnold at this point. 

At least the pin stayed still! Pins didn't pound on the door of the Jensen’s house screaming at three am, didn’t chase girls that never really came home, didn't show up to their best friend’s house with a face like a Greek tragedy, beautiful in a way that made you want to cry and left you drained. Pins never left you for someone who wasn't even that someone anymore.

Sammy sighed again. Now he was just getting maudlin. This tended to happen - late nights with no one but yourself for company were far less easy to fill than late nights spent chatting with your best friend and talking to (mostly) good and definitely interesting people.

His phone buzzed on the cement beside him, and he grabbed for it so quickly that he scraped his knuckles along the pavement. Ignoring the newly welling blood, Sammy hastily unlocked the phone to check his texts. It would be Ben, it had to be him, it had to. 

Troy Crieghouser’s name glowed on the screen, black against the white background, and Sammy slumped back and sighed. He had to stop reacting like that every time his phone rang. 

Ben wasn't going to call him. If he could just convince his subconscious self of that, he'd be far better off. 

He really should check that text, though, it could still be information about Ben. 

This time when he held his phone up, he noticed the red glimmering along his fingers in the light of the street lamps, and the stinging like tiny shocks along the length of the scrapes. Sammy didn't have time for a band-aid now, he'd deal with it later. 

The text was short. Troy had never been one to use too many words when a few would do. 

_[6:07 AM] Troy: looked all night, no sign of ben or lights. :-( breakfast at rosas and talk strategies? ___

Sammy wound his fingers into his hair, trying to convince himself that he shouldn't go. He should be out here, checking the radio, social media, every nook and cranny in King Falls’ mysterious woods. 

His stomach growled again, and he stood. One breakfast break couldn't hurt, right? And they were going to talk about finding Ben. Plans were good, plans meant an actual chance of discovering clues and not running off half-assed into mysterious dark woods. 

Another text came through on his phone. 

_[6:10 AM] Troy: theres a special on waffles today :-)?_

__Sammy looked out into the forest again, the trees stark silhouettes against a gray sky. The sun was going to rise soon._ _

__One breakfast couldn’t hurt._ _

__He sent a text to Troy, telling him that he’d be there soon and not to eat all the waffles. If they had any leftovers, Troy could take them to Peas. The ‘cat’ loved Rosa’s maple syrup. That would be nice, Sammy thought. Not a lot of things were nice recently._ _

__//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////_ _

__Sammy stepped into Rosa’s, the door falling shut behind him with the familiar sound of the bell. Rosa herself was working today, wiping down counters before the morning rush began. When she noticed Sammy standing at the doorway, she offered up a smile._ _

__He smiled slightly in return._ _

__“Troy’s over there, sugar,” she told him, waving a damp rag at a corner booth. Rosa’s diner cultivated a homey small-town atmosphere, and the red-checked tablecloths and cracked synthetic rubber seats were comfortingly familiar._ _

__Troy waved at him from the seat, a half finished plate of waffles in front of him and an untouched one on the side of the booth across from him. Sammy slid into the seat. His stomach growled audibly. He wanted to talk strategy first, but god those waffles smelled good._ _

__“You want to eat first?” Troy offered, noticing Sammy’s hungry stare. “I already started eatin’, so I figure it wouldn’t be fair if we jumped right into talking without letting y’all get a chance as well.”_ _

__“That would be great, Troy. Thank you,” Sammy said, starting in on his waffles. It had been way too long since he’d had a proper meal. By the time he was full, there was definitely not much on his plate left for Peas._ _

__“So,” Troy began, drumming his fingers on the table nervously. “There weren’t any mention of Ben on the radio tonight? I was on duty, so I couldn’t listen myself.”_ _

__Sammy pushed his empty plate aside. “Sorry, Troy. Not a whisper, aside from a shout-out for both of us to come home from Chet.” He shook his head, blond hair falling out of his tangled braid and around his face. “I know I should be on the radio, but I can’t help but be worried about Ben.”_ _

__“I am too, Sammy,” Troy sighed. “We can’t find hide nor hair of him, and the tips on sightings are starting to get rarer.”_ _

__They sat in near silence, each man running through the various places they’d checked for Ben. Troy had searched most of the places in town - public buildings like the school, and a couple of churches._ _

__No one had gone near the library since Emily had disappeared for the second time._ _

__Sammy had searched outside of town. Remote buildings like gas stations or the old windmill, and a couple of stands of trees that Troy had assured him were not haunted by any apparitions._ _

__Nothing. No sign of Ben or the rainbow lights. Or Emily._ _

__But Sammy wasn’t certain if a sighting of Emily would really be a good thing at this point. “I don’t know, Troy.” He rubbed at his forehead, trying to think of something, anything, that could lead them to Ben._ _

__He couldn’t help but think that if he had just stopped Ben from leaving that one night, they wouldn’t have to be looking for him at all. At the memory of Ben that night, dark eyes panic-bright and angry tears on his face, Sammy couldn’t stop himself from slumping slightly and setting his face in his hands. It was his fault Ben had run off like that. If Sammy had just kept his big mouth shut and not kissed him, not told him he loved him, not done any of what came after… If he had just stopped pushing, maybe Ben wouldn’t have snapped like that._ _

__Or maybe Ben would have been with Emily after all. Like he should have been all along._ _

__Who was Sammy, to get in the way of a fairy-tale romance like that?_ _

__He started back into the present with someone’s hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Troy across the table, worry deep in his blue eyes._ _

__“You alright, Sammy?”_ _

__Sammy grinned weakly, brushing off Troy’s hand. “I’m fine.” If Troy knew what - or more accurately, who - Sammy had been doing the night before Ben disappeared, he probably wouldn’t offer that comforting hand anyway. He took a deep breath, doing his best to banish the cobwebs of past nights like bad dreams. There were things to do in the present, and Sammy knew that if their positions were swapped, nothing would have stopped Ben from searching for him and Emily - no matter what his feelings for Sammy or Emily had been._ _

__He looked Troy in the eyes and tried to strengthen his smile.“Alright, Troy. You grew up with Ben, right? And you grew up here. Is there anywhere in town or out of it that Ben could possibly be using as a hideout?”_ _

__Troy looked at Sammy a moment longer and said nothing. The deputy was never loquacious at the best of times, and his silence now made Sammy nervous. He wanted to babble about Ben, about Emily - about anything, if it would stop Troy looking at him like that. Troy held eye contact a moment longer, before shaking his head and looking off to the side._ _

__“None that I can recall, Sammy. Ben and I… We weren't what you could call friends in high school. Didn't really run with the same crowd - though lord knows I showed up at enough of the school plays that half the cast knew me by name.” Troy laced his hands together absentmindedly, staring at something in the distance. “Maybe… All the theater kids used to hang out at this one spot in the woods for cast parties and the like, but I don't think it's been used in years.”_ _

__Sammy sat up, intrigued. “Would Ben still know where it is?”_ _

__Troy laughed. “That boy was at those parties more often than he was in class. Only place he was at more often was rehearsal and the plays themselves. ‘Course he knows where it is.”_ _

__“Do you?”_ _

__Troy’s brow furrowed in concentration, and he tipped his head back against the wall, trying to call up his memories. “I was never in the cast, but a girl I knew invited me to one of the parties once. I reckon I could get us there.” He stood and grabbed a box off the seat next to him, dumping his leftover waffles in there. “I’m off for the rest of today, maybe we could head over?”_ _

__If they could find Ben there… Sammy honestly wasn’t sure what he would say to him. Anything that would make Ben come back again, anything to fix what he’d done to his friend. Still. He had to find Ben before any of that, and he wouldn’t be able to do that without Troy’s help._ _

__“You okay, buddy? You kinda zoned out,” Troy prompted. The deputy stood at the side of the booth, holding his food box and waiting for Sammy._ _

__Sammy shook himself back into reality and smiled gratefully at Troy. “Sorry. That sounds great, man. We should get going.” He got to his feet and pulled a face at his empty plate. “Whoops, I meant to leave a little something for Peas there.”_ _

__“Aw, the critter won’t mind none, I’m sure,” Troy said. The two men started walking towards the exit of the restaurant, each considering what they could possibly say to Ben when - if - they found him there._ _

__“Wait, the check -” Sammy started, pausing when Troy shook his head._ _

__“It was a two for one special, Sammy, don’t worry about it,” he assured Sammy. “I know you aren’t exactly employed at the moment what with Ben and all, so it’s on me.”_ _

__Sammy smiled wearily at Troy, standing still in the middle of the restaurant. “How are Ben and I ever gonna make this up to you?”_ _

__Troy grinned back, and gently pushed Sammy forward again towards the exit. “Well, you can start by helping me find my buddy again. I know times are gonna be tough for a while, but if you two and Miss Potter can come out okay in the end, that’s thanks enough.” They stopped briefly outside the exit, the bright morning spilling sunshine over the two of them like liquid hope._ _

__“Are we ready for this?” Sammy asked, glancing askance at Troy. “I mean, what if we don’t find him? What if we do?”_ _

__“We’ll find him,” Troy promised. “If not here, we’ll just have to keep looking. He has to be somewhere in town.”_ _

__“I hope so,” Sammy murmured. He took a deep breath, readying himself for all this day might bring. “Let’s go.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we start to get into the actual fallout of the previous chapters, rather than just emotional in the moment stuff. which is probably why this chapter took so long. anyway, kudos/leave a comment if you enjoyed (or if you were made very sad :P )! every comment gives me a writing power-up :D


	4. the trees are filled with memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things Happen.

Early morning sunlight illuminated the trees of the glen, casting stark shadows on the shrubbery and detritus of a thousand teenage parties. What most interested Sammy and Troy, however, were the glass prisms and pyramids that glimmered with faint rainbows even when mostly shaded. 

Ben had definitely been here at some point, even if it didn’t look like anyone was here right now. 

The two men hopped out of their cars where they had parked along the side of the dirt road that led into the clearing, and began to search the area. 

A strange silence fell over them as they searched for any clue of Ben’s current location or a sign of when he’d be back. Neither man spoke, and the only sound was the whisper of the trees in the wind and the occasional chiming of hanging glass ornaments. No birds or animals could be seen or heard, and the hollow sounds of the wind and gentle chiming was more than a little eerie. 

A breeze whistled through the clearing, and Sammy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It smelled different than he would have expected for a forest - cleaner, and sharper somehow. Electric. 

He glanced over at Troy, who was nudging a large glass cone with one boot. When the other man didn’t seem to have any obvious reaction, Sammy decided he must have been imagining it. Or hey, he  _ was _ from a city. Maybe forests normally smelled like that?

Even if he had lived here for over a year, and had never encountered that weird smell outside of a thunderstorm. Sammy glanced at the sky, only to find that it was a clear icy gray. No sight of clouds or a storm to explain it. 

“Am I the only one who’s getting major “first ten minutes of a horror movie” vibes?” he muttered to himself, tugging on a branch to bring a delicate shimmering contraption hanging closer to his face. It jingled gently as it moved, throwing off rainbows in every direction. “How did Ben even  _ get  _ this stuff out here? Hell, how did he get any of this in the first place?” 

Troy caught the tail of Sammy’s question and paused to look up and shake his head. “You didn’t know Ben growing up. He could do just about anything if he set his mind to it. Did I ever tell you about the time he got in his head that one of our neighbors was a werewolf?” 

Sammy gently released the branch, letting the ornament lift back into the air with series of chimes. The scrapes on his fingers from earlier that same morning twinged with the movement, and he winced slightly. “I thought werewolves were basically par for the course in King Falls?” 

The deputy shrugged. “Adults like to try to keep that part of town a secret, sometimes. I never got why. Better to know and be prepared, if you ask me. Anyway, Ben and I… ” He caught sight of something in the grass that intrigued him and trailed off, kneeling to get a better look. 

“What is it?” 

“Broken glass,” Troy said. “A lot of it. We got to be careful where we step - there could be more.” 

It was probably just due to another breeze coming through the clearing, but the hairs on the backs of Sammy’s arms stood on end and he would have sworn that the strange electric scent was in the clearing again. A shiver ran down his spine. “I’m beginning to think Ben was not expecting any human visitors here.”

“We’d be the first,” Troy agreed. The deputy cautiously pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t think he’s here, Sammy. There’s no fire, no camping gear, no nothing. Just a hell of a lot of glass and spooky lights.” 

Sammy shook his head. “He  _ has _ to be here!” he insisted. 

The wind picked up around the two men, stirring the trees into harsh whispers and the glass ornaments into a noisy cacophony. Rainbows flashed like spotlights all across the clearing.

“I've got a real bad feeling, Sammy,” Troy warned, and something about how quiet his voice got said that it was time to shut up and listen. “Ben is not here, and I don't think we should be either.”

“You can leave if you want, but I'm going to stay and find him,” Sammy said, barely audible over the clash of glass and wind. 

Troy stood still for a moment, waiting for a change of heart that Sammy refused to make. They faced each other in the clearing, rainbow lights splattering like paint dripping down their skin and clothes. The sun should have been well above the trees by now, but the sky remained an implacable gray - it was a sky that cared nothing for the earth beneath it, casting everything in the same monotonous white light. 

“That's your choice, then?” Troy asked and maybe there was a quake in his voice, maybe something inside him was still that boy who'd watched Ben Arnold walk away from their friendship because of a sugar glider and maybe something was still the man who'd watched Ben Arnold fall apart over a girl he’d never even kissed. Maybe those pieces of himself told him to stay there and keep looking for his friend, because Troy had promised Mrs. Arnold that he'd always bring her boy home safe. A glass bauble fell from its tree and shattered upon the ground. It was not safe here. Not for him, not for Sammy, not for Ben. 

“Go back to King Falls, Troy,” Sammy said. “Feed Peas. Take care of Mrs. Arnold and all the other townspeople.” He shook his head. “Lord knows Ben and I couldn't.”

The two men were quiet. Around them the wind still gusted and the glass still sang with discordant chimes. But Sammy and Troy stood still and silent in the midst of the chaos. 

Troy nodded, once, slowly. “Take care, Sammy,” he whispered, and walked out of the clearing. 

And with that, Sammy was alone. 

He knew it wasn’t logical. There was no way that the simple lack of another human being around would affect the weather. 

But the moment Troy’s car pulled out of the clearing, Sammy would swear on everything that he held precious that the temperature dropped ten degrees. 

He had to keep looking for any sign of Ben. There was nothing else he could do, and if he didn’t do anything he’d go insane. The persistent noise around him made it difficult to concentrate, but concentrate Sammy must. He wandered around the edges of the clearing - checking for fresh coals from a fire, a sleeping bag, a tent,  _ anything _ that could possibly lead to his best friend. 

Branches bent and snapped in the trees, and every time Sammy could not stop himself from turning and checking to see if someone was there. 

If Ben was there. 

The first sign Sammy saw of Ben, though, was not the sound of a branch being stepped on or the sight of camping gear. 

It was the wind going still and the sudden absence of chiming glass.

It was that smell again, sharp ozone bright against the muddy forest scents. 

It was the thicker, more metallic undertone to it.

It was blood, wet and dark and red against shattered glass. 

Sammy wanted to puke. “God,” he whispered. There was a chance this wasn’t Ben’s blood, right? It could be an animal’s blood. Still creepy, but far less cause to worry. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Sammy’s gaze snapped up from the bloody shards to the person standing in front of him and all thoughts as to the blood’s owner vanished. 

“Ben,” he said, voice hoarser and more hesitant than he’d meant it to be.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ben repeated. His face was hard and he stood stock still, staring at Sammy, but Sammy could not meet his eyes. Instead his gaze was drawn to Ben’s hands, lying at his sides and bandaged with stained cloth. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” Ben continued. “It’s not safe here. Leave, Sammy.”

Sammy shook his head. “I can’t leave you here!” he blurted out. “Ben,  _ god, _ what the hell are you doing? You don’t want me to get hurt? Then stop leaving me out of this! I promise, I swear to god, I will swear on anything you want that  _ I will help you. _ Just please stop leaving me behind. If I walked away and you died because of whatever scheme you had written in that notebook…” Sammy couldn’t continue the sentence. “Ben, I’m not leaving you,” he finished weakly, finally drawing his eyes back up to meet Ben’s.

Ben took a breath, but didn’t say anything. He had started tapping his fingers against one leg, and Sammy knew his best friend. He could see the taut lines of tension on Ben’s neck and the almost imperceptible shiver on his lower lip and if Sammy had to guess what Ben wanted most to do at that moment he would have guessed that the radio host wanted to cry.

But Ben didn’t cry. 

He just looked down at his hands and back up at Sammy before speaking, his voice rough but steady. “I’m sorry,” he began, and Sammy knew he would probably never regret hearing anything more than what Ben was about to say. “I’m going to summon the flying saucers, and I’m going to get Emily back. If,” he choked up for a moment, “if I have to, I’m going to offer up a trade.”

“No-!” 

“You can’t change my mind, Sammy.” The statement was spoken with barely more emphasis put on it than one would when saying any undeniable fact - water is wet, space is big, and Sammy Stevens was more in love with Ben Arnold than he had possibly ever been with anyone. 

And Ben was willing to die to save Emily Potter. 

And there was nothing Sammy could do about it. 

He knew he should probably be telling Ben to be reasonable, that he was driving Sammy and Troy half-crazy looking for him and his mom missed him and Emily wouldn’t want him to do this and that he needed to come home. 

Somehow, Sammy couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth. Instead he swallowed his pleas and took a step forward, closer to Ben. “Then let me help you,” he whispered. “If you ever listen to one thing I say, listen to this. I will not leave you here alone.” 

“I… Dammit, Sammy.” Ben shook his head and went quiet. 

Almost as if in response to the silence between them, the breeze began to whistle through the trees again. If Sammy listened hard enough he would swear it was almost humming a tune, but he couldn’t quite figure out the melody. Whatever it was, it set his teeth on edge and filled him with some unnameable desire to fleefightfreeze and he would have done just about anything to make it  _ stop. _

Ben was rocking back and forth on his heels, eyes flicking from tree to tree like an animal searching for the predator it  _ knows _ is there but can’t seem to find.

“Can you hear that?” he asked, hushed and wary. 

The light in the clearing was bright. Too bright, for a sky that was still clouded over and a sun that wasn’t visible. The glass ornaments in the clearing sang their chimes out in a hair-raising accompaniment to the quiet whistle of the breeze and their rainbows reflected off of the still clouds above until Sammy would have bet good money that the clouds themselves were also giving off that rainbow light.

He would have won that money if anyone had taken him up on it. 

When the breeze stilled around them and not a blade of grass moved, the glass pyramids and whirligigs still rang and that strange tune still shivered across their skin. 

And Sammy saw them.

Three triangles that could have been massive or tiny, he couldn’t tell. They seemed to exist in entirely different proportions from the rest of reality, a strange haze shimmering around their edges like a heatwave crossed with the rainbows that come off a sprinkler on sunny days. 

The UFOs (were they still unidentified if Sammy knew they were alien spacecraft?) hovered just above the clearing. Instinctively, Sammy turned and took a couple steps backwards until he was standing in front of Ben and facing the UFOs. 

Sammy felt something brush his hand and flinched before he realized it was Ben, who wasn’t even looking at him.

Ben was almost enraptured by the UFOs, pupils shrunk to pinpricks of darkness in amber eyes that flashed gold in the otherworldly rainbow lights. His hand was on Sammy’s wrist, holding on almost too tight without even seeming to know he was doing it. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out and he just kept breathing faster and more shallow and shaking his head and all Sammy wanted to do was grab Ben’s other hand and pull them both out of this godforsaken place. 

After all this time, Ben Arnold had the UFOs in front of him, and he couldn’t do a damn thing. 

Neither could Sammy, to be fair. 

The two men could do nothing but stand there as that song grew louder and the glass stopped chiming and started shattering, piece by piece around the clearing. The lights steadily brightened as they pulsed in time with the sounds and Sammy had to shut his eyes because it  _ hurt _ like a migraine pulsing just inside his skull. 

Moments after Sammy closed his eyes, a shatter-crack of sound and light like every lightning strike from a summer storm in a single second split the clearing and both Sammy and Ben passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did that make you feel? Leave a comment if you want to let me know! :D


	5. such a fool for sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this??? an update???

Ben came awake with an urgent gasp of breath, already panicking before his eyes were even open. He tried to pull himself to his feet, but the clearing was pitch black and when he tried to reach out for purchase, something sharp and bitingly cold sliced through the bandages on his hand.

“Sammy?” he yelled. “Where are you? God, god, please if you ever listened to anything I say, don’t let him be gone.” Ben turned his head, trying to find a hint of anything even vaguely Sammy-shaped in the surrounding clearing.

He couldn’t even make out his hand in front of him. What had happened? How long had it been since the aliens had knocked them out, or whatever they’d done? “Sammy!” he shouted again, rough and desperate.

Nothing.

It still sounded like Ben was in the clearing. There was a breeze stirring what must have been tree branches around him, and birds sang from somewhere above his head. The thick damp scent of ferns and moss permeated through the surrounding air. If he was careful to avoid the glass, he could feel the dirt and mulch rubbing against the remains of the bandages on his hands.

He still couldn’t see a thing.

“Sammy!” he called out, because if there was one thing that he would not accept it was that Sammy was not here. After everything Ben had done… There was no way whatever had happened to Sammy, to his best friend, wasn’t his fault.

He had known he’d be at fault for whatever consequences ensued when he started this whole plan.

Knowing that felt a lot different from having it happen.

“God, Sammy, I’m so sorry,” he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “This is all my fault.”

“Ben?”

His head snapped up.

That was not Sammy. That was really, really not Sammy.

The voice was hoarse, barely even audible, but Ben would know it from a million others. “Is that…” he trailed off, unable to form the words. He couldn’t see it, it wasn’t true. He had to be hallucinating.

It just wasn’t possible.

It couldn’t be…

“Emily?” he asked, voice almost as weak as hers.

Silence.

“Is… Is anyone there?” he asked again, louder. God, he really was hallucinating.

Before he could say anything or try to get up again, he heard coughing. “Who’s there!” he shouted, turning his head from side to side in a vain effort to see anything.

“Ben, it’s me!” she said, and it had to be her it couldn’t be her this wasn’t happening to him. “I-” she broke off in the middle of her sentence to cough, “-nodded. Hurts to talk.”

“It’s the middle of the night. How was I supposed to see anything?”

She was quiet for a long, long moment. “It’s… It’s midday, Ben.”

“No, it’s not. It’s pitch black out here,” Ben said, feeling rather like he was pointing out the obvious. “No moon, no stars, it-”

“Just listen,” Emily rasped. “Birds.”

So Ben closed his eyes, not that it made much of a difference, and listened.

And he heard the birds. Robins, sparrows, he didn’t really pay enough attention in King Falls’ week of outdoor school to know which species they were. But they sang like the sun shone solely for them to sing to. He didn’t hear the crickets that started up every evening, or the bullfrogs that croaked later on. As he sat in silence, he could even feel the warmth of the sun on his face.

“I can’t see anything, Emily,” he said, voice hushed. He reached up to touch his face, but all he could tell was that his bandages were rough and dirty and his hands were in even worse shape. “I… Nothing.”

She was quiet. “What happened, Ben?”

He shrugged, unable to find the words. How do you tell a girl (more than ‘a girl’, this was  _ Emily _ and Ben had loved her once and maybe did so still) what you've done when you're not even sure yourself? He didn't even want to admit that he had no idea here. “The rainbow lights,” Ben said, after an awkward pause. “I…” He took a deep breath. “I was trying to summon them.”

“Ben,” Emily’s voice was still rough, but it was getting stronger with every word. “ _ What the hell, _ Ben, why would you  _ do _ that?” 

“You,” he whispered, and even though he spoke barely above a breath it seemed like the word echoed around the clearing after he said it. 

Emily didn’t say anything. He couldn’t hear her moving, either, couldn’t hear if she was even breathing, if she was even here at all. “Emily?” 

“I’m still here.”

“Are you…” Ben wasn’t even sure how to ask.  _ Are you okay? Are you even real? You were kidnapped by aliens and I would have spent the rest of my life trying to get you back, but then you did come back and you weren’t you at all. Would the real Emily Potter stand up, please? I know she’s here, I remember her perfectly, but not as perfectly as I remember the feeling of Sammy’s skin against mine, not as crystal clear as my memory of how he sounded when he shouted my name.  _

“I’m alive, Ben. I’m here.” Emily’s voice broke through Ben’s thoughts, startling him back into the present. Leaves rustled and broken glass clattered, and Ben glanced in the direction of the sound even though he knew he still wouldn’t be able to see whatever was there. Emily touched his shoulder, and her hand was warm. “I think we both need medical care right now. There’s…” Her hands were cupping his face now, roughly scarred and callused skin catching as she brushed her thumbs just under his eyes. “There’s blood, around your eyes.” 

“Sammy,” he said, and reached up to grab where he was fairly certain her wrists were. They were close enough to his face that he could guess correctly, and he tugged her hands down. “I have to find him.” 

“Ben, you have to go to the hospital.” Emily stood, pulling him up with her. His legs were weaker than he thought, and he stumbled onto Emily. She could barely support her own weight, let alone his, and they both fell onto the forest floor again. 

They were still close enough that he could hear her breathing, ragged and off-beat. “Maybe,” she breathed, “maybe we should sit down for a while longer.” 

“Yeah,” Ben agreed. 

The two of them sat without talking, the sounds of the forest around them filling the silence. 

He heard Emily take a deep breath before she spoke, her breath worryingly raspy. “They took me, didn’t they? The lights?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, unable to find the words to say anything more.

“What happened, exactly?” 

Ben shrugged and shook his head. “What do you remember?” He wanted to look at her, wanted to see _ Emily  _ for the first time in months. Emily with her copper-brown eyes and how she only had one dimple when she smiled, all freckles and curly hair and just so lovely. 

Whatever had replaced her had had the eyes and the dimple, sure, but it still hadn’t smiled like she did.

“The Sammiversary. The rainbow lights on the highway. Then nothing.” 

“That’s about it,” Ben muttered, then added, “god, that was such a dorky name,” before he could think to stop himself. (It would probably solve a lot of his problems if he could think to stop himself half the time.)

Emily laughed, though, and it’s barely even audible and almost more cough than laugh, but it’s the best thing Ben has heard in weeks. 

Without warning, he’s struck by the memory of Sammy, that night before Ben had run off… Those hands and that mouth and the way he’d smiled at Ben before he fell asleep, the roughness in his voice when he whispered that he loved him. 

He shook off the memory, counting the months before that and the weeks after, between Emily’s first disappearance and the short time her double had been here. “You were gone for months,” he settled on saying, unwilling to admit that he could probably remember the amount of time she was gone down to the day and hour, if he tried. 

“Miss anything important?” she asked, and he could almost hear her grin when she talks. 

Ben was struck again by the realization that this was Emily, this was not an alien double or a memory or a dream, this was  _ her. _ She sat not two feet from him, her voice was rough and her hands were scarred, but she was alive. 

He wanted to call the station, post it on twitter, do anything to let the rest of the town know that Emily Potter was _ home. _ He wanted to call Sammy.

Oh, god,  _ Sammy. _

“Sammy,” he said instead of answering her question, and his voice didn’t sound like his. “Emily, he was here, he was with me, he was here  _ because of me _ and now he’s gone, god, what did I do?” 

“Ben, Ben!” She moved again, moved to kneel by his side with a hand on his shoulder and the other on one of his hands. He can just feel the pressure of her touch through the bandages still wrapped around it. “Don’t freak out, that’s not going to help us or Sammy.” 

He took a deep breath. Kept breathing. Emily breathed with him, counting off slowly in between breaths, and the shared rhythm of it is steadying. 

After a minute, Emily’s breath hitched, and then again, until she started coughing and the sound was dry and harsh and dangerous. Ben could hear it in perfect detail and could do nothing actually helpful. He reached out, testing the air with his hand until it came into contact with her back. It shuddered beneath him, the coughs wracking Emily’s whole body. 

Maybe she was right about that whole medical care thing.

Emily was just getting her breath back when they both heard it. 

Something was moving. Ben couldn’t tell where the sound was, but he knew something was stepping on the shattered glass that extended at least to just under the treeline around the clearing. The pieces cracked and split against each other, the sounds clean and distinct from the rest of the birdsong. 

Beside him, Emily was silent, and he guessed that she couldn’t see what was making the sound either. 

“Who’s there?” she called out, and her weight shifted beside him - she was standing up, he guessed. 

“Sammy?” he called a few moments later, unable to resist the desire to at least try. He couldn’t bring himself to even hope for a response. 

He got one, though. 

He couldn’t tell if it was Sammy, could barely tell that it was human, but whoever it was in the forest was making a pained noise and it sounded just enough like Sammy to have Ben trying to struggle to his feet again. 

If Sammy was hurt, and it was his fault… 

Ben stood now, but just barely. Emily still had a hand on his shoulder, and he honestly wasn’t sure she was helping him stay standing or stopping him from running shoulder.

“Who’s there!” she shouted again, but her voice cracked on the last word and she collapsed into another coughing fit. 

The glass sound was getting louder, getting closer, and Ben still could not tell where it was coming from. He was trying to help Emily stay standing, hoping that the guttural edge to her coughing wasn’t hurting her and almost falling over himself. 

God, his hands stung. 

The clattering of glass was almost on top of them, and Ben was trying to stagger away but he couldn’t make his legs move when he wanted them to and he had no idea in which direction he was walking. 

Whoever was following them was breathing almost as harshly as Ben and Emily, and they kept making little sounds like they’re trying to talk but can’t quite get enough breath for words. Ben didn’t have time to worry about that, though, if they were Sammy they would have said something before now and he had no idea if this stranger was friendly and he needed to get himself and Emily out of here. 

He tripped on a tree root, and he and Emily and their follower tumbled back down onto the ground. A shard of glass sliced into Ben’s elbow and he hissed in pain. Before he could do anything, someone was holding his arm, twisting it to look at the wound.

“Who’s there?!” he shouted, vainly trying to pull his wounded arm back and lash out with the other, but the stranger caught his flailing arm and pulled it down to ground between them.

They cleared their throat, but it turned into a coughing fit before they could try to talk.

He heard Emily, behind him, sit up and take in a breath - sharp, surprised, and he guessed who was in front of him before they said a word. 

“Ben, are you okay?” Sammy asked him, and his voice is about fifty percent worried Dad Friend and fifty percent rasping cough. And then, Ben presumed, he saw Emily. “Oh my god. Ben, is that…”

“In the flesh,” Emily answered. 

There were a lot of things Sammy could have done in that moment, but the one Ben was not at all expecting was for his friend to lean forward and pull both Ben and Emily into a tight hug. 

It was sweet right up until Sammy realized his shirt was legitimately wet with the blood from Ben’s arm, and Ben agreed that he was getting more than a little light-headed. And then Emily started coughing again. 

Yeah, a hospital was sounding like a better idea by the second. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sure, everyone seems happy. but let us not forget that once medical care happens, people are going to start thinking about other things. and by people I mean Sammy, Ben, and Emily. and by things I mean ben and Sammy had sex, and Emily has no idea this happened. ben's in love with both of them probably and doesn't know how to choose because he doesn't realize that he might not have to choose. there's gonna be some Drama without a doubt. next chapter featuring said drama and more!  
> leave a comment if you liked? :D  
> also please come talk to me about the newest episode it Ruined me


	6. sunshine in an empty place

Before Sammy even opened his eyes, a migraine began jabbing into his skull. He tried sitting up and looking around, but the room was bright and white and the aforementioned pain in his head started screaming at him within seconds. It would probably be better to focus on what he couldn’t see.

Sammy realized then that he was shivering, goosebumps dappling his skin. 

He was lying down in a bed, sheets too crisp and mattress too lumpy to be his own. The fabric hadn’t warmed up to match his body heat yet, and the thin sheets and blanket did not do enough to keep out a chill. A breeze whistled from somewhere in the room - air conditioning, maybe. To his right, something beeped intermittently. 

The room smelled sharp, lemony, like it had been cleaned thoroughly.

A hospital? 

Why was he-

The events preceding his awakening here crashed onto Sammy like a train wreck, bringing a new edge to his migraine with them. He couldn't hold back a pained sound, doubling over on the hospital bed. Ben and Emily, they'd both been there, they were alive, Emily had talked and it had sounded like  _ her.  _

Sammy couldn't remember how they got to hospital, just that blinding flash and blurry images of Ben, of Emily, the sound of their voices. Ben’s blood on his shirt. He grasped at his chest now, eyes still closed, but found only the soft cotton of a hospital gown. The movement pulled on something attached to his arm - an IV? 

How long had he been here for? Where were Emily and Ben?

He had to try to look around again. Sammy took a deep breath, and cracked open his eyes. The room was too bright again, but as his eyes adjusted it came into more focus. The edges of things were blurry and his migraine pounded heavily inside his head. Still, this was better than having his eyes closed and seeing nothing at all. 

The walls were a neutral tone that blurred into the floors and ceiling, and blinking a couple times did nothing to remove the blur. He tried propping himself up onto his elbows, but the rush of dizziness that accompanied the movement knocked him down onto his back again. 

_ It’s going to be fine, _ he told himself.  _ Just breathe, and don’t puke. Ben and Emily are probably also here in the hospital, and they’re safe. _

After a minute, he felt better enough to turn his head to one side to get a better look at the room. There was an IV stand to one side of his bed, accompanied by a machine he didn’t recognize. It was almost fully powered down, just emitting that soft beeping every few seconds and the occasional small light flickering. There was a window on that side of his room - the breeze was coming from there, not the air conditioning. 

It was sunny outside now, no sign of the gray skies that had enshrouded the clearing earlier that same morning. Well, Sammy hoped it was that same morning. 

“Oh, are you awake, Mr. Stevens?” someone said from the other side of the room. Sammy rolled his head over to face them, almost quickly enough to set off the nausea again. There was a nurse standing in the doorway, and he was smiling at Sammy. “You have a nasty concussion, so you probably aren’t going to be getting up anytime soon. But it’s good you’re awake! You’re in the King Falls Clinic, and you’re going to be fine with fluids and rest.” 

Sammy tried to talk but started to cough. 

The nurse frowned, holding out his hand to stop Sammy. “Just a tick, I’ll be right back with a water cup for you.” He hurried out the door again, the opening of it allowing a second of sound from the hallway to seep in. 

Someone was shouting, Sammy realized, someone who sounded familiar. He couldn’t hear it long enough to actually make out any words. The hospital staff would have to deal with that one. Sammy let himself relax back against the bed, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. 

He heard rather than saw the door open again, and… There was no way the person shouting was anyone other Ben. Sammy tried to sit up again, wincing at the onslaught of dizzy nausea but staying upright. “Is that-” he whispered. “Is that Ben? Is he-” Sammy coughed, and accepted the paper water cup from the nurse, drinking quickly. “Is he okay?” 

The nurse sighed. “He’s… He’s a little worse off than you are, I won't lie. He's also…” He made a face, gesturing with one hand. “A little more - how do I put this? Your friend is more exuberant than most of our patients who come in with his problems.” 

Sammy shook his head, grinning slightly. “What, did he rip out his IV and start rampaging through the halls?” The nurse didn’t meet Sammy’s eyes and shrugged slightly. “... He did, didn’t he. Is he okay?” 

The nurse nodded, and took the empty cup from Sammy. “He’ll be fine, Mr. Stevens.” 

“It’s Sammy, please. How’s the girl who was brought in with us - Emily. Is she okay?” 

“Well, Sammy, Miss Potter is going to be okay, but she  _ is  _ in one of our Intensive Care Units. She has an even worse concussion than yours as well as severe dehydration and malnutrition, and there are a few other things that the doctors just want to check for to be safe. Once you’re feeling better, you can probably visit her!” 

“Great, that’s - she’s okay.” Sammy breathed slowly, trying to marshal his thoughts into something coherent. Emily was okay. Ben was okay. “I’m okay.”

The nurse nodded. “That’s right, you are okay. Do you mind if I check some things right now, just to make sure?” 

Sammy agreed, and the check-up that followed only took a few minutes, and then the nurse was gone and he was alone. There was a button within arms reach on his desk that he could press if he needed help, and a doctor was supposed to be here in a couple hours. Later, the nurse had said, if he felt up to it, there were some people who wanted to ask him a few questions. 

God, he hoped it was Troy and not Gunderson or another one of his cronies in the force.

He'd only been alone for a few minutes when another knock came on the door, and another nurse stuck her head in. “Hi, Mr. Stevens,” she said, smiling with more determination than actual happiness. “You can call me Maddy, and I have a very… insistent visitor for you.” She pushed the door open further, and lead Ben into the room. “He's promised that if we just let him talk to you, he'll sit down, let us examine his eyes more closely, and  _ stop ripping out his g.d. IV. _ ”

Ben stumbled forward, turning his head this way and that as if searching the room. “Where-where is he?” His voice was hoarse, and Sammy couldn't help sitting up and reaching out towards his friend despite the aching dizziness in his head. 

“Ben! I’m right here, I promise.” 

“Sammy?” The nurse led Ben over to the side of Sammy’s bed. Sammy leaned forward, grabbing Ben’s hands the moment they were in reach. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You did it, buddy. We’re all here, Emily’s here, things are gonna be okay.” He was babbling, he knew it, but there were dark circles under Ben’s eyes and Ben’s eyes were clouded over with pale rainbows, like the sky above that clearing they’d been in, and they hadn’t really had time to talk about anything before the three of them had gotten to the hospital and he’d maybe thought he and Ben were going to die and he would have never told him, Ben would have never known-

“I know, I know! I’m here too.” Ben’s hands were cool in his own, and Ben was smiling at him like it was just another night at the station. “Sammy, I did it. Emily’s home.” His grip weakened for a moment, and he turned his head away. “I couldn’t go in and talk to her, or see her or anything, but. They promised. Right?”

“That’s right, Mr. Arnold,” Maddy said, a few steps behind Ben. “She’s going to be fine.” 

“Yeah,” Ben said, relief audible in his voice. He turned back to Sammy, focusing it looked like just above his head. “And you’re sure, you’re absolutely certain you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine, Ben,” Sammy insisted. “A bit of a headache, but forget about me. I’m just glad you’re alive! And…” He hesitated. “Your eyes?” 

Ben shook his head. “It’s-it’s not good, buddy. They don’t really know what happened, but it’s not just cataracts or anything. I might not…” Ben was choking up, stuttering on his words and still slightly shaking his head. Or maybe he was just shaking. Sammy squeezed his hands, smiling at him even though he knew Ben couldn’t see him. “I might not be able to see anything. Like, ever.” 

Sammy pulled Ben forward until he had one knee up on the side of Sammy’s bed and was leaning forward, close enough for Sammy to pull him into a real hug. “I’m sorry,” he said, words muffled against’s Ben’s shoulder but still audible. “I’ll be here, I promise. And so will Emily.” 

“God, I’m never gonna see Emily again,” Ben whispered, voice cracking. He was crying, Sammy could feel the dampness of it through the thin fabric of the hospital gown. “I’m - she used to smile, so big, whenever I brought her a coffee or told a really dumb joke, or, or just smile at her, and it wasn’t the same when whatever that replacement was smiled at me. And I’m never gonna see that again, Sammy, I don’t wanna forget what her smile looked like or the way you gesture around when you argue with me or any of it, anything.” Ben was running out of breath before he finished speaking, hoarse and stuttering and barely able to keep going. 

“Ben,” Sammy said, and then again when Ben didn’t seem to react. “Ben!” He let Ben pull back a little, to the point where he could see Ben’s face again. It was red and blotchy and Ben was still crying, and Sammy wanted to kiss him more than he maybe ever had before. 

He’d do just about anything to get Ben to smile again, to help him through the hitched breaths and tearful speeches. He just… didn’t know  _ what  _ to do. 

He couldn’t kiss him. Not now. Emily was back and Ben had worked so hard to save her, Sammy knew he loved her. Ben deserved that happiness. 

“Ben,” he said again, and Ben actually did laugh a little at that, even if it was sort of choked and tearful sounding. 

“That’s my name, yeah,” he said. “Don’t wear it out or anything.” 

“I just-” Sammy stopped, took a deep breath. “I’ll always be here for you, buddy? You know that, right?”

Ben sniffled. “I know, man. I’m just… really worried about this.” 

“I got you, it’s tough.” Sammy pulled Ben into another hug, before letting him pull away so Sammy could see his face again. “But we’re gonna make it through. Now you know I’m okay, and you know Emily’s okay, so maybe you can let the doctors actually look at your eyes?”

“Don’t you Dad Voice me now, Sammy,” Ben muttered, but he was grinning at Sammy and things would maybe still be okay after all this, if Ben would just keep smiling like that. Neither of them moved for a long moment, until the nurse standing slightly off to the side cleared her throat. 

“I hate to break up the moment, but Mr. Stevens does have a point. The sooner we get to the doctors, the sooner you boys and Miss Potter will get to go home!” She stepped forward, setting her hand gently on Ben’s shoulder to offer guidance. 

“Yeah, I know,” Ben said. “Just. Another minute, please?” He turned his head in the vague direction of Maddy, pleadingly. 

“Only a minute,” she allowed, and stepped back. 

Ben nodded and turned back towards Sammy, hugging him fiercely. “You gotta be okay, buddy, you have to promise me you’ll be okay.” 

“I promise!” Sammy replied, returning Ben’s hug as best he could. Ben had lost weight, he couldn’t help but notice, prominent ridges of bone easily felt under the hospital clothing. He hooked his chin over Ben’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut and holding on. “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that, though?” he asked without opening his eyes. “Mister ‘I Ran Off For Two Weeks To Hunt Aliens’? I need you safe, Ben. Emily needs you.” 

Ben just shook his head, the motion jarring when they were this close. “I can’t lose you, Sammy, or Emily. I’d be telling her the same thing.” 

Or Emily. 

Eventually, one of them was going to have to bring up what had happened between them, how it would change things now that Emily was back. 

But not now. Sammy didn’t want to have to end this moment with the confusing mix of emotions that subject would bring up, he just wanted to let this one moment happen. He deserved this, right? The two of them deserved to be happy for one goddamn moment. 

All moments have to end eventually, and this one ended far too quickly. Ben let his grip loosen, and Sammy let him sit up and pull back. 

“I’d better go,” Ben said. “You know, doctors and eyes and stuff.” 

“Yeah,” Sammy said, looking at Ben’s face like he was the one who might never see it again. “Yeah, I’ll let you go.” 

Ben stepped back, and let Maddy lead him out of the room. Just as they reached the door he paused and hesitated for a moment. Sammy looked up at him, just in time to hear him blurt out, “I love you, buddy. I’ll see you later.” 

And then he was gone, and Sammy was left alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of these emotions everywhere, how does anyone do anything with all these emotions  
> also I promise more Emily in the next chapter


	7. by the time she wakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's been eighty four years... anyway, here is my favorite chapter bc it features my favorite girl's pov.

Everything hurt.

Emily was not exaggerating. Muscles that she hadn’t even known she had ached, and every time she moved bruises shifted just under the skin. She’d been up for hours - the doctors had told her to sleep when she got home, but it just hadn’t happened.

She’d been lying on the couch for what felt like all night, but every time she checked the clock almost no time had passed. The moon was still a crescent high outside her window, with no signs of setting soon.

Maybe she should call Ben or Sammy.

Her phone sat charging on the side of the table - well, it wasn’t her phone. She’d had that when she was… Abducted? Was that the word? Whatever had happened to her. The doctors hadn’t really been clear about that.

But the last thing she remembered was the rainbow lights on the highway, chasing her down the long empty road.

And she’d woken up in that empty clearing, a few feet from Ben, surrounded by shards of prisms and glass ornaments. He’d told her the rainbow lights had taken her, right?

Emily’s memories of that time were blurry, with only a few moments that stood out. Mostly Ben and Sammy, if she was honest. Seeing Ben, the blood on his face and the strange iridescence of his eyes. Being hugged by Sammy.

She should call them. She’d do that.

Emily snagged her phone off the coffee table. It was about four in the morning, so hopefully they would be on the show. She had a lot to say that she really shouldn’t say on air… But she wasn’t sure she could remember their personal cells, and the new phone didn’t have any of her old contacts imported yet.

424-279-3858.

“Um, hi?”

“Who’s tonight’s lucky lady on line one?” She didn’t recognize the low, rich tones for a moment, only remembering as they kept talking. “This ain’t my normal time on the air, but I can always make a couple minutes for a dame with such a lovely voice as yours.” Chet Sebastian.

“This is Emily. Emily Potter.”

Silence. “Did I hear you correctly, Miss…?”

“Yes, I’m Emily Potter. Are Sammy or Ben there?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Potter. The boys haven’t come back from their… unscheduled break quite yet. They’ve been looking for you for some time, darlin’.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I’d maybe prefer no nicknames, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Chet agreed. “You’ve been through a lot, it would be a real dick move of me to mind. Now, is there anything a man like me can do for you on such a fine, dark evening as tonight?”

“Just… Do you have their numbers?”

Chet transferred Emily off the air while he played an ad, giving her Sammy and Ben’s cells with probably the least amount of flirtation he could possibly manage. Still, when Emily hung up it was with a sigh of relief. She slumped back onto her couch, closing her eyes to ward off the too-bright glow of the moon.

Just for a second. She just needed this second right here, to close her eyes and feel the damp forest air in her lungs and let the stress leach out of her body.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to birdsong and a cloudy morning’s pink light. Emily groaned. “Dammit.”

She should probably call them now, before she forgot. Actually, no, she should take her prescription. Emily froze halfway to reaching for her phone, and dropped her hand to the couch. Standing up was more difficult than she remembered it being, every ache renewing itself as her muscles stretched. Her medicine sat on the kitchen counter, the innocuous bottle mocking her with the prospect of having to walk over painfully to get the medicine to reduce said pain.

The pills were bitter even through the water she swallowed them down with and left a sharp aftertaste in the back of her throat.

A knock sounded at her door, and Emily downed the rest of her glass of water and made her way over to the window to glance out.

Her mother stood on her doorstep, hair falling out of a messy bun and holding a cooler that looked like it weighed more than she did. Samantha Potter blinked and shifted from foot to foot, glancing around at Emily’s unkempt yard. “Emmy!” she called out. “Are you okay? Do I need to call the doctors? The police? Anyone?”

Emily rushed (at least as much as she could rush before the painkillers had fully kicked in) over to the door to let her mom in.

There was a second of silence, and then her mom dropped the cooler on the ground and ran in to hug her. One of them was breathing hard, breath hitching as though about to sob. Or maybe they both were, Emily wasn’t sure. Her mom’s arms were wrapped around her and she was real and she was here and she was gonna be okay.

“I missed you,” her mom said, voice cracking. “I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again, you hear?”

Emily nodded, not trusting her own voice. She couldn’t seem to stop nodding, pulling her mom closer and hiding her face against her shoulder.

They were gonna be okay.

Her mom pulled out of the hug at last, leaving her hands resting on Emily’s shoulders. She had definitely been crying, eyes red and wet. “Now, let me put some of this food away and we can have a great breakfast. I brought over those freezer waffles you liked so much as a kid!”

Emily smiled weakly. “I thought you hated those?”

“Anything for my favorite daughter,” Samantha assured her.

“I’m your only daughter,” Emily protested, but her mom just shook her head and pulled Emily into another hug.

“That just means you’re even more my favorite, since there’s no one else who can even compare.” She stepped away from Emily, going back to get her cooler. Emily was swept in her mother’s wake, prompted into chopping vegetables or helping her mom put her hair up so it didn’t get in the food. Easy tasks. Distractions. That didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to be distracted. It was pretty great, if Emily was honest. Her mom had started playing show tunes from a little speaker and the house had begun to smell of toasting waffles and her mom’s floral perfume. The chores were simple but kept her mind busy.

Kept her away from the subjects of the previous night’s thoughts.

She’d call Ben and Sammy tomorrow. They’d understand, she knew they would.

Emily kept telling herself that she’d call the two of them tomorrow. She kept telling herself that for over a week. It wasn’t her fault, things were just busy now. She had physical therapy and doctor’s appointments and prescriptions to pick up and her mom took her back to Big Pine for just a couple of days, to the park there and a café and little thrift shops. Not the library, though. The library back in King Falls was still fine - or so she’d heard, she hadn’t actually been able to visit it yet. The doctors said she should take reintegration into the town slowly.

Emily just wanted to be left alone to sort through a shelf of books or to go out for coffee with Ben or try and convince Peas to jump for a treat or any of the things she’d done before.

The slip of paper with the boys’ numbers on it was missing. She could call in to the show again, if she could ever stay awake late enough. Her mom had somehow heard about her sleeping problems, and in no time at all Emily had a melatonin prescription added to her list of vitamins and protein shakes for malnutrition or whatever else had happened to her.

She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to remember.

Where was that piece of paper, anyway? Emily could have sworn she left it on her couch, but it was nowhere to be seen. “Mom?” she called out.

Samantha poked her head into the living room, hair pulled up into a towel. “You need something, Emmy?”

Emily frowned. “Have you seen a little piece of paper with two phone numbers on it? I want to call Sammy and Ben. I’ve been saying I would ever since I got home, but I’ve just been busy. I guess.” She leaned heavily against the couch, trying to keep her breath steady. Walking had become easier every day, but when she got agitated her breath still came short and her legs didn’t seem to listen anymore. “I miss them.”

Her mother frowned at the same time Emily did, and in the same way. A deep crease between her brows, one side of her mouth folding down further than the other. She’d always taken after her mother. “Emily, your doctors advised you to take it slow, remember?”

“I know, but I haven’t seen Ben or Sammy since it all happened. They saved me, mom!”

Samantha pursed her lips. “You were very disoriented that first day. We don’t really know what happened.” She walked into the living room and put a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “I know you liked him, but you should have seen him while you were gone! The boy was half-mad with worry - not that I wasn’t myself, and he was very helpful to me sometimes, always bringing me these awful casseroles that he made himself and tried so hard on, but-”

“Mom, breathe.”

“I just worry about you, Emmy. And Ben is very helpful, but he’s… He’s a lot, sometimes. I don’t want him riling you up.”

Emily sighed and reached up to take her mom’s hand off her shoulder, squeezing it once before letting go. “I promise, I’ll be fine. Ben would never do anything to hurt me.”

Samantha shook her head. “I know, I know. Just give it a few more days, okay? For me? We can go into the library tomorrow?” she offered.

It was bribery, but Emily really did miss her library.

She could wait a few more days, right?

 

* * *

 

 

Ben shakes. His hands and his head and his whole body, especially when he sleeps, wracked with tremors like an earthquake is rolling through. He doesn’t seem to notice, but Sammy does.

God, Sammy fucking notices.

Out of the three of them, Ben had to stay in the hospital the longest. Even after Sammy was released he spent all his time in Ben’s room anyway, to the point that nurses stopped giving him Looks about it and started offering him protein bars and recommending the best ways to nap in hospital rooms.

Sammy might have accidentally given them the impression that they were engaged.

They had just assumed, and well- if it meant he got to stay here by Ben’s side, Sammy wasn’t interested in correcting them. Ben himself doesn’t seem to notice, less lucid than he should be by now, tossing and turning and unable to focus on any one thing for too long.

Emily doesn’t call, doesn’t show up, and it’s not like Sammy expected anything because she’d been abducted by aliens for months. Surely she needed recovery time for herself. It still would have been nice to know that she cared.

(The official diagnosis was merely that she had been missing and had some form of memory loss that was blocking out exactly what happened.)

Mrs. Arnold is there for much of the time as well, trading shifts with Sammy and giving him tupperwares of chicken soup and plates of cookies. He thinks maybe she hopes that the smell of her cookies will wake Ben up. She says they’re his favorite, and Sammy resolves to tease Ben about his addiction to extra fudgy triple chocolate chip cookies as soon as possible.

Ben starts talking a couple days in, starts turning his head from side to side at every sound. He wants to get up before the nurses will let him. Sammy almost cries, because Ben hasn't changed even after everything that's happened. Stubborn and angry and ready to take on the world. Half the nurses hate him and the other half adore him.

Sammy always adores him.

After a week, the doctors are forced to admit defeat. They can’t fix Ben’s eyes. He’s oversensitive to light now, but can’t see much beyond that differentiation. He’s released from the hospital with a white cane and a class set up with an Orientation & Mobility Instructor from out of town, and it doesn't seem like enough but the dark circles and stress lines creasing the doctor’s face when he gives this prescription convince Sammy that they tried their best.

“You know,” Ben says on their way out, picking his way carefully across the parking lot. “If Archie tries to sell me an untrained pomchi as a seeing-eye dog, I'm allowed to hit him with my cane, right? That's gotta be self-defense.”

Mrs. Arnold looks to be about two seconds from breaking down in tears. She’s not used to any of this, especially Ben making jokes about it like nothing has changed. Sammy deflects as best he can, taking her arm and guiding her over to her car gently. Ben sits on a curb, setting his cane down beside him.

“Breathe,” he tells her, voice soft and steady as he can manage. “He’s gonna be fine. He’s got you and me and all those doctors and Peas and himself, and we’re all gonna work together.”

Her hands are shaking, and Sammy is reminded of calming her son down so long ago, talking him down from Mary Jensen’s doorstep at three am. “I know,” she whispers after a moment. “I know.”

“You ready to go home? I’m going to stay with Ben at his place, and we’ll see you this weekend, okay?”

She nods slowly and breathes in and out. The sunlight dapples across her face through the trees just behind the lot, and for a second she looks more peaceful than she ever did when Sammy saw her in the hospital. Ben’s mom is even shorter than he is, and in the stark white halls of the hospital she had looked so, so small. “Yes, dear. I’ll bring you two some food, Ben has always been a terrible cook.”

Sammy walks back over to Ben, who is drumming his fingers on the sidewalk arrhythmically. “Want a hand up?”

Ben shakes his head. “I got it.” He carefully pushes himself to his feet, feeling around on the ground for a second before he finds where he set down his cane.

The pavement is rough and potholed and the parking lot is busy, but the two of them make it to Sammy’s car without incident. He drives them home and Ben figures out how to turn the radio up loud enough that talking would be impossible, so the trip passes by in ads for Glory Holes and staticky country music.

Sammy wants to say something, but doesn’t know how. It feels like he doesn’t know anything anymore, doesn’t know what they are anymore or what Ben and Emily are or how any of this is going to play out.

He keeps driving. They’ll be home soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr at wendy-comet! i have a ko-fi link and am always taking requests or commissions. :D


	8. all our history etched at our feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me rising up from the grave to keep writing sambenily fic

Emily has three things. 

A to-do list from her mother, neatly inked on a lined sheet of paper. A rebellious streak that she’s had since she was fourteen and dyed her hair blue with Kool-Aid. And a deep and abiding desire to talk to her favorite radio producers. 

She does not have an address or a phone number, but she remembers where the library is and there has to be more information there. 

It looks just like she remembers, the red brick and white mortar unfaded even in this year or however long it was between her abduction and her return. She still can’t quite make sense of that. Emily lost a year of her life to nothing, to something that no one even wants to admit exists. She walks into the library, still lost in thought, and runs into a tall man carrying a heavy stack of books. 

“Oh my god!” she says, “I’m so sorry, let me help you with these.” 

Slipping back into being a librarian is easier than she thought it would be, and as she picks up the man’s books on braille and guide dogs she finds herself talking without realizing it. “You know, if you want to pick up any actual books in braille you’ll probably have to ask at the front desk, I don’t think we carry a-” She looks up, and Sammy is staring at her with watery eyes and she drops all the books again. “Oh my god.” 

“Hey, Emily,” he says. His smile isn’t the same. It’s a little crooked on one side, a little sadder. Dark circles cut deep under his eyes and she’s stepping forward to pull him into a hug before either of them says another word. 

Sammy was always great at hugging, and that at least has not changed. He’s solid and real and still smiling at her when they step back away from the hug. “How’ve you been?” he asks. 

Emily shrugs. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” How does she tell him what she’s been doing, find the excuses for why she hasn’t come to see him or Ben or come up with the words to explain the jumbled mess that her mind feels like? Speaking of Ben. “Where’s Ben?” 

“He… He’s at home.” Sammy’s brushing her off. He kneels on the floor to pick up his books, moving quicker than necessary. “I should get back to him, he probably thinks I’ve abandoned him or something.” 

“Can I come with you?” she blurts. 

Sammy looks at her. 

The weight of the world sits on his shoulders, weighs down the corners of his mouth and shades his face in hollow blues and purples. 

“Please,” she says after a moment has passed. “I-” but the words still won’t work.  _ I miss him _ is trite,  _ I need to see him  _ is desperate and weird,  _ I’m constantly on the knife’s edge of a panic attack and you two are the only people I think I can trust  _ is even more desperate and weird. “Please,” Emily just ends up saying again. She twists her hair around her fingers over and over, hoping the motion will help her hands stop shaking. 

And Sammy may not have Ben’s reaction to seeing Emily for the first time all those months ago, but neither of her boys had ever liked seeing her sad. (She’s not sure if she’s allowed to call them her boys anymore, even in her head. The thought of not doing it makes her heart seize up.) 

Sammy seems almost to deflate, body curving over the pile of books in his arms like an admission of defeat. “Someday I’m gonna be able to say no to you,” he murmurs. He smiles at her, but his eyes are so sad. “Be careful with him, alright? He's doing okay, but…” Sammy shakes his head. “You could break his heart, Emily.”

She took the bus to the library, and so Sammy just gives her a ride back to see Ben without worrying about leaving her car at the library. The ride there is less awkward than Emily would have imagined. Sammy is quiet. 

The rush of air conditioning and quiet classical music from the speakers makes the silence seem smaller, and Emily is able to take a few minutes to just breathe. The tension seeps out of her shoulders in the gentle rumble of Sammy’s car. It’s early yet and the fog that constantly surrounds the town has not yet retreated to the woods, leaving the buildings and signs wreathed in soft gray mist. 

They pull into the parking lot outside Ben’s apartment complex. Sammy puts the car in park but doesn’t turn the engine off, leaving them idling in the morning light. 

Emily glances over at him, and finds him staring at the wheel in front of him like it isn’t even there, like he was looking right through it. 

“You… You okay?” she asks. 

He sighs. Well—sigh isn’t the right word for his action, sigh doesn’t encapsulate the way Sammy curves into himself, the way it seems like he doesn’t have any air left in his body, how tightly he closes his eyes. “I need to tell you something. Or, Ben needs to tell you something. I guess we both do.”

Emily waits, but Sammy just leans back in his chair and glances out the window. He won’t make eye contact with her.

“Let’s go inside,” he finally says. 

There’s no wind this morning, but the unmoving air is cold enough to bite at any exposed skin. Emily is fast on Sammy’s heels as he leads them into the building, and her memory is unclear but she  _ knows _ this place. She knows the cracks in the pavement, the fading paint, all of it. 

“Ben!” Sammy calls out as they enter. “I brought some of the books you asked for, and-” 

There’s a loud chittering before Sammy can continue his sentence, and a small furry form hurls itself from a nearby shelf and glides onto Sammy’s head. 

Emily reaches out without thinking, and in the next second there’s a small animal running down her arm and curling up in the crook between her neck and her shoulder. “Hey, there,” she murmurs, trying to get a better look at the animal without moving her head. 

“Do you remember Peas?” 

Emily looks up, and Sammy is meeting her gaze with those dark, dark eyes and she missed him so much it hurts. She glances back at Peas, and something rises to the surface of her memory. “Give Peas a chance? He’s a flying squirrel, right? No, wait!” She holds up a hand to stave off Sammy’s response. “A sugar glider. I think—I think Troy gave him to Ben. Is that right?”

She holds out her arm again and Peas runs down it, taking off and gliding back over to a shelf padded with cloth shreds and chewable toys. 

When she turns her focus back to Sammy, she notices behind him—Ben. 

It’s the first time she’s seen Ben since that clearing. 

He’s skinnier now, more wan. Ben grips the wall with one hand and tilts his head to the side, eyes wide open but unfocused. More than unfocused. As she looks further, Emily realizes that Ben’s eyes are filmed over with a oil-slick shimmer of gray fog.

“Hey, Emily,” he whispers. There’s a beat of silence, a moment without movement or sound or life. And then she’s moving forward and so is he and they’re crashing into each other, hugging each other so tightly Emily feels like she might just snap. 

She’s crying into his shoulder and when they draw back to meet each other’s eyes she can see that so is he. Emily’s never seen him cry before and she never wants to again, just wants to sit with him on the couch and listen to him laugh at her awful jokes and laugh at his even-more-awful jokes, wants to do a thousand dumb things that all result in him smiling at her like he always has. 

“Are you—” Emily’s not sure how to continue. “How are… Things?” She bites her lip, knowing the sentiment is not enough but without the words to make it meaningful. 

“I mean…” Ben trails off. “Peas is good. I’m good. Sammy’s a shitty cook.” 

“Like you’re any better,” Sammy mutters mutinously. 

Ben waves his objections off with a grin and a flap of his free hand. “I can’t see the stove. That’s my excuse and no, neither of you are allowed to bring up anything I made when I could see the stove.” 

It would be easier than Emily would have imagined to slip back into a rapport with these two. Things could stay the same, and they could laugh and smile and pretend like Emily hadn’t vanished and Sammy would still meet either of their eyes and Ben  _ could _ still meet either of their eyes. Right? Wouldn’t that be easier?

She takes a deep breath. Something twinges a little when she does so, a reminder of her steadily lowering prescription from the hospital. It’s good, it means she’s healing… That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.

Healing hurts, in all of its forms. 

“Guys,” Emily says, cutting through the familiar debate about their relative cooking skills. “I need you to tell me the truth.” They both flinch at her words, more harshly than Emily had expected. Had what happened to her really been that bad? “What happened to me? Don’t--don’t give me the bullshit that the police keep trying to shove on me, okay?” 

Ben shifts in place, finally settling back against the wall. He’s biting on his lower lip, heedless of the scab already there. When she looks back over at Sammy for an answer, he’s not looking at her. His eyes are on Ben, on the way Ben can hardly stand still and the fearful twitch in his movements. 

She knows the way he looks at Ben. 

It’s the way Ben used to look at her. She remembers that worried lovesickness like it was yesterday. Apparently it was almost a year ago. 

That’s what Ben and Sammy tell her. In halting sections, drawing the story out of each other by turn. She had vanished on the last Sammiversary, snatched off of the main road by the rainbow lights that had then possibly literally dropped off the face of the earth. 

“You were missing for months,” Ben gets out, “and then you weren’t.” His lip is bleeding now. Sammy makes a half-gesture towards him and jerks his arm back before Ben can notice the intrusion. 

“Ben,” he murmurs instead. “Your lip.” 

Ben just shakes his head. “I know,” he mutters. “I’ll get it later,” and rubs his wrist across his lower lip and chin. The motions smears the blood more than cleans it, leaving a rust-dark streak along his skin. 

“It wasn’t you,” Sammy speaks up before Emily can respond. Which is good, because she’s not sure her knee-jerk response to her being back somehow and not remembering any of it wouldn’t just be frustrated tears. “She--It--I don’t know. It was something the rainbow lights did.” 

“How do you know?” asks Emily.

Ben laughs. “Believe me. We could tell.” 

“It didn’t know any of us,” Sammy explains. He crosses the room from where he’d been standing by the door to Ben’s side, leaving Emily facing the two of them. “Wouldn’t get to know us either. We… don’t know much more about it than that.” 

Emily wants to sit down on the floor. 

She doesn’t. She steels herself, holds her back straight and her heart together, and asks again. “How did I come back? I just remember waking up in the woods, and you two were there, and there was blood…” She trails off, unwilling to remember any more than what she must. Emily does not ask what she’s been afraid of this whole time. 

_ How do you know? I know I asked that already, but I mean it differently this time. How can any of us know that this is the real me, that it’s not just another copy, a more convincing one? Get your Emily Potter now, this time with added memories! _

“I called the rainbow lights,” Ben says. “With prisms. They brought you back with you, I…” She gets the sense he’s unwilling to admit something, but she waited for years to get any librarian job anywhere and waited again for a town to respect her as someone other than the pretty new girl that radio host was crushing on, and she can wait for Ben to admit his mistakes right now. “I don’t know why they brought you,” he acquiesces. “It just happened.” He nods in the vague direction of Sammy. “He was there too.” 

“I don’t know any more than he does,” Sammy says. “Just like that. You vanished, and then you came back but… wrong. And then Ben went looking for you and called down the rainbow lights like an  _ idiot _ and now you’re back but none of us are okay, least of all Ben, because he’s got to be the damn hero all the time even when he gets himself fucking  _ blinded by aliens!” _

Sammy is out of breath by the time he’s finished talking. His chest rises and falls dangerously fast and his face is flushed, the redness travelling down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his t-shirt. 

Somewhere in the corner of her mind Emily notes that he’s wearing Ben’s shirt. It’s too short on Sammy to be one of his own. 

Ben puts out an arm, correctly judging Sammy to be close enough to him that he can grab onto his shoulder without too much flailing. Sammy stills at Ben’s touch, but not like he’s calming down. If anything, he seems to tense up further with the effort to not… To not do something. 

Emily can’t tell if he’s stopping himself from pulling away from Ben or curling into him. 

“I’m not going to apologize,” Ben says, quiet enough that Emily can barely hear him. She gets the increasing sense that this moment is not meant for her. 

“I’m not asking for your apologies,” Sammy returns, and he pulls away from Ben not angrily, but insistently. Ben lets him go. “If anyone needs your--our apology, it’s Emily. We have to tell her.”

Emily wants to ask  _ tell me what? _ but she thinks she might already know. 

She thinks she might have known this, or something like it, long before her absent year. 

She thinks she might have hoped for it, the first time they all had breakfast together at Rose’s. The sunrise had been painting the horizon pink, and the three of them had shared a plate of waffles piled high with toppings. Ben had blushed pink as the sky after Emily complimented him, and when Sammy had thrown his head back and laughed the sun had turned his blond hair gold with light. 

Emily thinks she might have been a little in love with both of them ever since. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at least one more chapter is coming, hopefully sooner than this one. maybe an epilogue? we'll see! regardless, be prepped for Emotions And Such. these three have a lot to deal with.

**Author's Note:**

> Harper, all of this sadness is for you. I have no apologies, only angst.


End file.
